


Spider's Den

by ephona



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Blood and Gore, Gen, Greed Island, Greed Island Arc, Hospitals, Mutilation, Surgery, alternate storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephona/pseuds/ephona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**Note: this fic will not be finished anytime soon.  Sorry for the inconvenience**</p><p>In returning from Greed Island, Gon and Killua discover that the effects of Breath of Archangel only work within the world you use the card in causing their injuries after the fight with Genthru to come back.  Distraught in losing his hand, Gon seeks out Hisoka who mentions that he knows someone who can help him get his hand back but warns him of the possibility of a steep price.  He meets with the Phantom Troupe yet again, making the deal that Machi will attach a new, working hand to him if he agrees to join the Troupe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a very special collab, HxH Big Bang, that took place in early 2016. salty-gon on Tumblr did the art which you should check out!  
> [Here's the artwork!](http://salty-gon.tumblr.com/post/145910000569/hxhbb-i-had-the-pleasure-of-working-with)

“I never thought I’d see the day.  The sheep walking right up to the lion’s den with not even the slightest bit of fear!” His tongue danced lightly on the edge of his nail.  “I knew one day I’d come running to you, begging you to kill me with your ripened skills, but this is a new one.  You? Coming to me? Of your own accord?”

It sure felt like a lion’s den to the boy as he approached the man in the dead-ended alleyway, Heaven’s Arena towering over them in the not so far distance.  The man leaned leisurely on the back wall, one heeled foot braced against it.  His yellow eyes glowed like a cat’s, scanning every inch of his body from head to toe with an unreadable fascination for something.  Like a cave, there was nowhere else to run but the way he had just come.  There were walls on either side and the murderous intent in front of him was slowly beginning to manifest itself in a dark aura.

“You must be desperate to ask my advice.  Don’t you have Killua?  Or, perhaps, Leorio?  I know Kurapika’s been hard to get ahold of lately, I’ve tried.” He chuckled, pulling out a card from thin air and pressing it to his full lips.  “It was just a suggestion, after all.  But you really want my help.”

“Yes.” The boy didn’t crumble or fade despite how scared he actually was deep in his soul.  He’d faced this man, Hisoka, many times before.  Each time, he was left with a lingering feeling of fear and excitement that wouldn’t leave him alone for days.  Just the aura around him sent chills up and down his spine and froze him to the bone.  “You said you had a way to help me.  I want to hear it.”

Hisoka clicked his tongue, placing both feet firmly on the ground.  “You might not like my offer.  In fact, you might outright hate it.”

“I don’t care.  I . . . I’ll do anything.  I’ll do anything to fix this!” He took a few steps forward, both of his hands deep within his pockets.  Fading bruises decorated his face, discoloring the skin with patches of purple and yellow.  The swelling from his black eye had gone down a bit since the last time the magician had seen him, leaving nothing but an ugly red wound around his eye socket.  The scrapes on his knees had even healed to scabs.

“Anything?”

“Yes! I’ll do anything!” he cried out.  Hisoka could even see a few tears start to gather on his lashes.  “You said you had a way to help!”

“First thing’s first, Gon. Let me see how bad it really is.”

Gon swallowed a thick lump in his throat.  His arms began to tremble a bit.  He slowly slid his hands out of his pockets and dropped them to his side.  His left wrist was wrapped in layers of cloth bandages leaving a strip of white around it.  His right one, however, was encased in bandages forming almost a cast all around it.  He brought his free fingers up to his right arm, peeling off the bandages.  Hisoka expected Gon to give him a lengthy excuse of how it ‘wasn’t his fault’ or even ‘it’s not as bad as it looks’.  This was the boy he’d been watching ever since his debut in the Hunter Exam one year ago, after all.  Instead, he was stoic, a cold dead look in his amber eyes.  He pushed himself off the wall, walking over to Gon just as he finished removing the bandages.

“Hmm. That looks like a pain.  No wonder you’re desperate.”

Gon still didn’t say anything as he held his now exposed injury awkwardly next to his chest.  He’d been lucky that the explosion had cauterized the wound as much as it did.  A cover of black soot, singed flesh and ashen skin prevented the raw parts from being fully exposed to the elements.  It still bled a bit from the center, little pockets of red ooze speckling the tar-like surface.  That was all there was to it.  Nothing but a stub left.

“You’ll really do anything to get your hand back, huh?”

Gon just nodded solemnly.  “I’m causing everyone problems.  And it was all my fault.  I need to fix it.”

* * *

 

“Oh my god.  Oh my god, Gon!” Their triumphant exit from Greed Island had taken the most unexpected turn.  Upon arriving from the fabricated game mechanics of the Nen-filled simulation, they were expecting life to continue on as it normally had but with a few more perks.  Bisky had her Blue Planet jewel and both Killua and Gon had crafted an ingenious plan to sneak an Accompany card out of the game in the form of a normal slot card.  But their immediate plans turned to dust as Gon landed on the floor rasping, choking and spewing blood all over the wooden floorboards.  Killua instantly had his hands on Gon's shoulders, wincing in both pain and shock as the swelling and burns that they'd healed with Breath of Archangel suddenly seemed to appear back on his hands.  He cried out his friend's name, fearing the worst had happened and only reaffirming his fears.  While Gon kneeled parallel to the ground, grainy noises coming from each blood filled cough, he supported himself with only his forearms, his now only hand holding back as much fluid from his mouth as he could.

"Gon! Gon, hang in there! Oh my god, Biscuit! W-what happened?"

"I-I don't know.  I didn't think that--" Even the seasoned Bisky seemed taken back by Gon's sudden change in condition.  She hiked up her skirts with a nod.  "Wait here, I'll go get help!"

Killua could only give her an understanding nod as he watched her run out of the room and down the hallway.  He placed one hand on Gon's chest and sat down, pulling Gon into his own chest solemnly.

"Gon, please don't die on me.  Please!  We . . . you still have so much to do!  You just found another clue to find your dad.  Just hang in there!"

"K-Killua." With one last cough, Gon turned his face shakily towards his best friend, tears joining the trails of blood running down from the side of his lips.  "I'm fine," He said in a hoarse voice, "I'm not going to die.  I just . . . everything hurts, Killua.  Why does everything hurt?  What happened?"

"I don't know, really.  But, my injuries from the dodgeball game are back and--"

"They're what?"  Gon placed his bloody hand on his shirt and lifted up what was left of his right hand.  For both of the boys, the world stopped spinning.  Killua could only register a deep sorrow as he watched Gon's already distressed face turn into a look of pure horror and disbelief at the sight of his missing hand.  Gon became completely isolated in his own mind as he could do nothing but register over and over in his mind what he was seeing.  They’d healed this, didn’t they?  He’d already convinced himself that all would be okay after the battle with Genthru.  Fate had smiled upon them and he had won the battle and each copy of the Breath of Archangel had worked.  He never really considered that he’d lose his hand for good; the thought never occurred to him.  Now, it was all he could see.  The scream that followed haunted his mind for hours afterwards, if it could be considered a scream.  His airway was so damaged, any attempt came out as a hoarse, breathy noise.

"Killua! Killua! No, no, no! Killua, no!  Killua, my hand!  My hand, Killua!"  Sobs and labored, harsh breaths added to the gravel and helplessness in his voice.  "Killua, it's gone!  We fixed it! Why is it gone again? Killua!  Killua, help me! I don't want this, I don't want this!  Killua! Killua--"

The only thing that stopped his bloodcurdling cries was yet another fit of coughs.

* * *

 

Hisoka patted a place next to him on the cinderblock wall, his pale face radiating with an unreadable amusement.  "It's just a hand you're missing, Gon. There's really no need to go to such lengths.  Many learn to live without one hand.  Is such a useless organ so important to you?"

"Yes." Gon hoisted himself up onto the wall, biting back a pill of pain from the unhealed wounds on his wrist.  He cradled his injured stump next to his chest.  He still hadn't gotten used to having such an ugly flesh wound.  He'd seen massive amounts of blood and even the singed flesh of people's inner organs in Greed Island, but he couldn't get over the sight of his own skin burned and bleeding.  Maybe it was because of how it reminded him so much about how he was lacking, or maybe just seeing such injuries on himself was something he couldn't quite bear yet.  "You might think it isn't important but it's important to me.  I do everything with my hands."

"But you surely don't need two."

"Yes I do."  Hisoka was expecting Gon to show more anger towards him as he played Devil's advocate so his stern yet calm reply caused him to pause for a moment.  He took out a piece of candy from his pockets and handed it to Gon.

"Well, I'm a man who lives up to his promises.  I do know someone who could help you.  But it comes with risks even I don't know about."

Cautiously, he took the offering.  "What do you mean by that?"

He took another candy from his pocket and plopped it in his mouth.  "Her name is Machi.  Ring a bell?"

_Machi . . . Machi . . ._  He'd heard the name before.  Where though?  He placed the grape flavored candy in his mouth and bit down in frustration.  After a few rounds of swishing the candy back and forth in his cheeks, he froze.

"Wait, that's the Phantom Troupe lady!  The one with the threads!"

"Bingo!"  Hisoka mused.  "I assume you watched my lovely fight with Kastro in Heavens Arena a few months back, right?"

"Eventually."

"So you saw my fabulous sleight-of-hand tricks that ultimately caused his death?"

He nodded, not really wanting to poke at Hisoka's ego right now.  "Why is that important?"

He leaned towards the boy, whispering so softly in his ear that his breath tickled and sent cold chills down Gon's spine.  "I'll let you in on a little secret.  As spectacular as I made that show, I did lose both my arms that day."  He brought his right hand up to gently stroke Gon's cheek.  "The only reason I have them back is because of Machi."

"So she fixed them?"  He coiled back in surprise, pushing Hisoka's arm away.

"Yep!  And with no scarring either."  He chuckled.  "No smoke and mirrors here!"

Gon jumped up onto his feet.  The very burning Hisoka had seen in his eyes from the first day they met had flared up again.  Even under the glassy sadness that clouded them, he could see that fighting spirit he loved so much.  It already was making his skin tingle and they weren't even in the heat of battle.

"Hisoka, take me to Machi!"

"Not so fast, Gon.  I don't want you diving head first into a den of Spiders without knowing what they might do to you."

"I've dealt with the Phantom Troupe before.  I'll be fine.  Besides, if you come along, she'll help me no problem."

He shook his head with a cheeky smile.  "Not really.  I had to pay thousands of Jenny for these.  Didn't you learn anything being their hostage?  They don't do things for free.  Plus I'm kind of on . . . relaxed terms with them right now."

Gon glanced back down at his arm stump.  "I don't have any money though.  Could I borrow some?"

"Gon, who said they only want money?"  He folded his arms in his lap gently.  "They might want money from you, but I doubt it.  They're down three members due to death and you happen to be a very close friend of Kurapika's, the Chain User they all despise.  I don't know what they might want from you but I don't see it being an easy deal.  That's why I'm reluctant, Gon.  Making deals with the Phantom Troupe is like playing with fire."  He slipped out a card from thin air, flashing the King of Hearts towards him.  "You'll be at their mercy if you ask them for a favor.  I don't want to be responsible for your blood on my hands just yet.  Do you understand?"

Gon swallowed a lump of nerves that had been forming in his throat.  As sketchy as Hisoka could be, he knew that was the truth.  The Troupe only did things within their own interests.  Even during the hostage exchange that had happened with him and their boss, they only wanted to save their own skins.  For one moment, he felt fear.  Fear of what they'd want from him.  Fear of what they might do to him.  With a shake of his head and a stamp of his foot, he pushed all his fear out behind him.

"Let me meet up with them, Hisoka!  I don't care what I have to pay.  I'll do it."

"As I thought."  Hisoka smirked, moving off the brick wall.  "You're a stubborn boy, Gon.  I know this better than anyone.  I'll take you to meet up with them."  With a wink, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.  Gon settled himself back on his bottom while Hisoka began to wander around the alleyway, nails clacking over the dial pad.

_I can do this.  I'll take on whatever they want from me.  If it means getting my hand back, I'll do it.  I can't let Killua and Leorio suffer like this . . ._

"Hello? Yes?  Machi?" Gon watched Hisoka's face change from a bright grin to an offended pout.  "Now, don't be rude!  It's just me.  At least pretend you're happy to hear me.  Yes, yes I know.  I took a little detour from talking to your beloved Dancho.  If you are so upset, you could always text me you know.  Hey, I have a favor to ask of you . . . I have a friend here who needs to have a hand attached.  Would you be willing to help him?"  As Hisoka paused to listen, the air around Gon suddenly felt cold and overbearing.

"What if I told you he was one of the kids the Chain User knew?  Would that change your mind?"  Hisoka stopped pacing right in front of Gon, feet sprawled out in a strong stance and his eyes glowing with mischief.  "Yes!  The one who tried to punch your lovely guts out!  Oh, he just had an accident.  He's willing to make a deal with you, though.  No, I just prompted him.  He, himself, wants to make the deal and fulfill it.  Isn't that right, Gon-kun?"

"Yes.  Tell her I'll do anything."

"Did you hear that?  He'll do anything." He said, his voice flowing like honey into the phone.  "We're not too far from the base, you'll have plenty of time to think and discuss with the other members if needed.  Well?  Would you be willing?  . . . Mmhm.  Okay!  Wonderful!" He turned his cheek away just long enough to give Gon a thumbs up.  "We'll be over soon!  Thank you! Love you!" Hisoka frowned, hearing Machi hang up.  "Wow.  Rude."

"So, did she say yes?"

"If you're really willing to do anything."  He offered out his hand for Gon.  "Well?  Let's get going, Gon."


	2. Chapter 2

_One week earlier . . ._

Killua knitted his bandaged fingers together again.  Leorio said the surgery would take an hour.  It'd been two.  What was going on in there?  He kept anxiously glancing over at the door to the operating room and back towards Bisky who still looked overly engrossed in her tabloid magazine.  He kept telling himself not to think of the worst possible scenario but nothing was working.  What if they'd found something wrong with Gon that they couldn't fix?  What if one of the medical interns had messed up and they had to redo the surgery with less time?  What if they were fighting to save Gon's life in that forsaken room right now instead of fighting to repair his windpipe?  He couldn't stop thinking about Gon's wet eyes as he was injected with the anesthesia and put under for surgery.  He'd looked so scared, as much as he tried to convince Killua he wasn't.  It was his first time being under the knife; any kid his age would be afraid.  Would he even wake up now?  Did he really just speak his last words to Gon two hours ago?  He moved his hands up to his head, digging his fingertips into his scalp to try and stop the thoughts from plaguing him.  Why did it turn out this way?  Why? What did they do wrong?  What did he do wrong?

Ten minutes past the two hour mark, the door to the operating room swung open.  Still dressed from head to toe in white medical scrubs, Leorio stepped out, using his blood-stained gloves to pull the surgery mask off his face.  A bit of Killua's anxiety flew away as he saw Leorio was, for the most part, spotless with only a few specks of blood on his apron.  Fatigue stung Leorio's kind eyes and drooped even further as he let out a sigh.

Bisky was the first to speak up.  "Well?  Did you guys underestimate the time or something?  It's been a bit."

"I know. Sorry.  All's well, though, so don't jump too far down my ass."  He welcomed himself into the waiting room, sitting right next to Killua.

"Leorio . . . is he okay?"

"Oh yeah.  He's perfectly stable and breathing a lot better due to the tube.  Just had to go in and make sure the blow didn't cause his voice box to break."

"Tube?"

Leorio shrugged and sighed a bit.  "Yeah.  Until the swelling goes down, we inserted a trachea tube so he can breathe better.  He's not gonna like it much when he wakes up but it'll help him in the long run."

"I . . . I see," was all Killua could muster up the courage to say.  Maybe part of his fear was the unknown of hospitals.  He'd never had to go to a hospital or even visit someone else in one before.  The sound of tubes in Gon's body sounded alien and absolutely terrifying.  He was probably overthinking the whole thing or something.  But, as long as Gon was okay and on the road to recovery, he could manage.  It wouldn't be easy, but nothing had been easy since he left home.

"We also cleaned and bandaged his other wounds," Leorio continued. "His wrist will scar when it's done healing.  Honestly, he was lucky this Genthru guy didn't have some sort of knife Nen or something.  The burns closed up most of the vessels and crud so we didn't have to.  It looks ugly but, I promise, it's fine as long as he changes bandages every day."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Leorio." Bisky smiled, dusting off her skirt as she stood up.  "Gon is beyond lucky to have a friend like you.  Do you know how hard it is to find good, kind doctors around here?  Impossible.  Also, thank you so much for helping us on short notice, too."

Leorio chuckled, removing his soiled gloves and hairnet before wrapping an arm around Killua's shoulders.  "Eh, it's nothing.  Anything to help a friend."  His other arm came around to encase Killua in a hug.  "You doing all right, Killua?"

"I don't know."  Light blue eyes stared blankly ahead at the pattern on the carpet.  "Leorio, will he really be okay?  I . . . I mean, will he ever be the same?"

Solemnly, he shook his head.  "We'll fix the breathing thing.  It's really just a matter of careful care to get the swelling down.  And it'll heal faster now that he isn't trying to breathe through it.  As for his right hand, he's just gonna have to relearn how to live without it."

"Isn't there like a way we can give him a metal hand or something?  Or like find a dead guy and use their hand?"

"No way." Bisky interjected, shuffling to stand in front of the two.  "We could get him a prosthetic but it might be years before the technology is good enough to make fake fingers move.  He's just going to have to train harder on how to use it when he feels better."

He knew that.  He didn't want to admit it but he knew Leorio and Bisky were completely right.  He'd just wanted one of them to instill a fake seed of hope in him that said 'he'll be normal' or even 'we'll fix his hand soon'.  But only a god could reconstruct his appendage now.

Leorio rubbed his hand up and down Killua's spine, speaking exactly what was on his friend's mind.  "It's not your fault at all, Killua.  Don't you dare go thinking that."

"But I--"

"But you nothing.  This is Gon we're talking about.  He does stupid things usually not thinking about the consequences that follow.  You could have done everything in your power, but this is something Gon chose, I'm sure.  The fault is this Genthru guy and whatever faulty glitch you guys found exiting Greed Island.  Hell, I would even go so far as to blame the creators of the game if that was the case.  The last person you should be blaming is yourself."

He muttered softly, "But it could have been me instead of him.  Why did it have to be him?"

Leorio gave him another strong one-armed hug.  "I ask myself that question every day.  You just gotta keep living with what fate has given you, Killua.  She's a cruel mistress but sitting and challenging her hand will only make things worse."

Bisky nodded.  "You gotta just take what she gives you and make good of it."

 _But what about Gon?_  He trembled just thinking about Gon's sickening cries for help.  Gon wasn't like him at all.  He was so positive that just one crushing blow could easily shatter his entire world.  Was Gon going to really be okay?

* * *

 

The Troupe hadn't moved very far from where Gon had first met them during the Yorknew Auction.  They'd set up another base in the next town over in very similar lodgings; dilapidated buildings that no one cared about, that just sat rotting on the side of the road.  The roof was still intact so everything inside was dry and smelled of termite dust.  And not all the Troupe members were there.  The two Killua and he had met at the Auction house were absent as well as the blond one with the phone, the one that looked like a mummy and the girl he'd arm wrestled before.  He was sure there was more missing who he just couldn't remember because he could only see four Spiders.

"Yo!" Hisoka seemed almost too casual as he waltzed right into their hideaway, greeting them with an almost laughable tone of voice.  "Miss me?"

"Hisoka!" From the far left of the spacious room, the samurai guy Gon remembered let out a deep growl.  He came storming up towards him, one hand firmly gripping his hilt.  "What the hell--"

"Calm down. I invited him."  Machi's voice resounded.  She sat almost in the center of the room, her dark pink locks flowing messily down her neck.  Though she'd stopped the man with her words, she didn't move an inch from what looked like a grave.  White lilies were arranged neatly around a broken stone cross and four white candles illuminated the delicate white color of the flowers.

"You what?" The samurai guy looked back at her in horrific surprise.  "You invited him here?  Are you messing with me right now?"

"Well he called me first and offered me a job.  Blame him for that, Nobunaga."  Machi jumped to her feet, giving one last longing look at the grave before approaching the three.  Shivers came over him as Machi's cold eyes locked right onto him and his heart began to beat faster.  In words Hisoka's offer had seemed so simple, but now, just being around them and feeling the aura they emitted normally, he felt a new kind of anticipation and fear.  She stopped next to Nobunaga, giving his shoulder a rough shove to break him out of his fighting stance.  "He brought along a friend, Nobu.  It's that kid you like."

"Aah!  So it is!"  Just as quickly as he'd stormed over, his emotions turned from bitterness to joy.  He reached out to grab Gon by the shoulder.  "Nice to see you again, kid!  You finally change your mind?"

"What?  No," he scolded, pulling off him.

"Hands off, Nobunaga.  Poor boy is still traumatized," Hisoka mused.

"Traumatized? From what?"

"Probably from your ugly face, Hisoka."

Hisoka raised a thin eyebrow at her.  "Huh? You wanna fight, Machi?"

"Later."  Machi pushed her way past both Nobunaga and Hisoka (who tried to give her yet another flirtatious remark, which she ignored) meeting face to face with Gon.  "Give me your hand."

Adrenaline began pumping through Gon's bloodstream.  If she tried anything funny, he wasn't going to stick around.  He tensed his leg muscles just enough to be ready to spring away if she started acting more suspicious than he was comfortable with.  He slowly removed the bandage he'd draped over his stump to protect it and extended his arm towards her.  Machi grasped his injury with the same softness he'd offered it to her with, her icy cold fingers only adding to the tension coursing down his back as she palpitated the singed flesh all the way down to what was left of his wrist.

"Well you got yourself banged up bad.  I can see why Hisoka offered my services."  She beckoned him to follow her deeper into the Spider's den, sliding up what looked like an old bar stool cushion next to a low wooden table.  "Did Hisoka tell you the price?"

"N-Not really.  He told me there would be one, that's all.  He said you would think about it."

"Of course."  She sat across from him, her arms and legs folded and her face still stoic and impossible to read.  "I'm assuming you're not loaded like that ass-bag, though."

He shook his head.  "I could get the money eventually, though.  I mean, I'm still registered at Heaven's Arena."

"No.  If you want this done, you gotta pay up front.  I don't accept any loans for attaching body parts.  Especially if we're going to get you a brand new hand."

"So, you won't do it?"

"Wrong again."  She paused as Hisoka and Nobunaga came to join them on the other ends of the table.  "Hey, Hisoka, you better not be leaving after this.  We need our message from Dancho about how things are going along.  With the . . . you know."

"Oh I know!   I'm not planning on leaving either.  I want to spend more time with you."

"Uh huh.  If you run off, I'll personally come and rip you a new one."  She turned her attention back to Gon.  "Okay, kid, here's the deal.  Getting you a new hand will be easy but since I know you have these strange, useless morals, you might not like what it will take."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I can't create hands from the air.  I'm going to go have to find or make a fresh corpse who is about your size and take the hand from their body."

"Corpse?" Gon's heart was racing now.  He imagined a rotting hand being attached to his equally grotesque stump and shuddered.

"Not too old.  A few days, at the most.  Which could be easy to find or not depending on who's been left in the streets lately.  It shouldn't matter though, right?"

"N-No ma'am."

Machi tapped her fingers on her arm.  "Ma'am is way too formal. Don't do that again."

"Oh, but it makes you sound so grown up, Machi!"

"Hisoka, I swear, if you open your lips again, I'll sew them shut."

"All right, all right," he chortled.  "I'll be quiet."

Gon swallowed yet another nervous lump as he attempted to re-rail the conversation.  "So what do you need me to pay?  I don't care how it's done.  I just wanna know what I owe you."

"Hah! You've certainly grown since I've seen you last." Nobunaga piped up.  "Already a little business man.

"Shut up.  I'm talking to him."  She gave the two men one last cautionary glare before turning her attention exclusively to Gon.  "You can pay me in labor.  The thought crossed my mind but now that I know you’re not the snotty white-haired kid, I think we can work this out.  I’ll fix you up on the condition that you join the Troupe.”

Gon felt his heart skip a few beats.  He clenched his left hand into a fist, gripping the end of his shorts.  Join the Troupe?  The offer had come up before when they had been looking for a quick way to raise money and had tried to capture members of the Troupe for a bounty.  Upon being captured by them instead, Nobunaga was the one to extend the first invitation for him to join, remarking how Gon reminded him of his friend Uvogin.  He easily recalled the seething anger he'd felt seeing Nobunaga cry over the death of his friend knowing he probably killed people every day without batting an eyelash.  Now, the offer was on the table again and his opinion about the Troupe was even more clouded than that day.  The few moments he'd spent with Pakunoda before her death made him question a lot about the nature of these thieves.  They seemed a lot more human than he originally thought, but they also weren't afraid to blackmail and murder to get their way.  Would joining them be worth the price?  What would Killua and Leorio think?  How would Kurapika act?  He began chewing on the bottom of his lip.  "F-for how long?"

"How long?" Machi lifted up her lip in a suspicious sneer.  "For as long as you live."

He felt the chills climb back up his back, freezing him in place.  For life?

"Machi, as much as I would love that, you forget that he knows the Chain User." Nobunaga piped up.  "Isn't that dangerous?  Dancho would not be happy about that in the slightest.  It'd be like recruiting a spy right into our midst.  Like Hisoka!  It'd be like recruiting Hisoka again!"

"I already considered that, idiot."  She rolled her eyes.  "I'm not that stupid.  I trust the kid is as desperate as we are.  We're in a bind with a lack of members.  It's only fair, don't you think?" She said, directing the last bit of her comment at Gon.

"I, well," He glanced over at Hisoka, hoping he had some gestures of advice for him, but to no avail as the clown seemed to stare at him with the same coldness in his eyes that Machi had.  "I don't know."

She was starting to get tired with the conversation.  Machi stood up, one hand on her hip, and declared in a very bold voice, "This is the only offer I have.  I'll get you a working hand, good as new, if you swear by the Spider itself to join us and become one of us.  That includes not telling your friends, especially the Chain User, about us or that you've joined us.  It's either that or get off your sorry ass and learn how to deal with it.”

“But--”

“Do you want me to help you or not?  I won’t be offended either way.  But that’s my price.  Take it or leave it.”

He stared down at the wood grain in the table and then nervously at the wounded flesh that still haunted him.  In exchange for a working hand, he had to become part of the Troupe.  There was so much at stake with this deal, including what he was going to tell Killua.  He’d been so upset seeing him in the hospital.  As much as he had tried to hide it, the image of Killua’s distraught face reminded him every night of what he was feeling.  He’d been awake to hear Killua softly cry to himself and he’d heard him talk with Bisky about how worried he’d become about how Gon was going to function.  He couldn’t let Killua go through more pain.  For once, he needed to be the selfless one.

“I’ll take it.”

“What?”

“I promise,” He said with a shaky sigh.  “I promise I’ll join you.  I swear on my life.  Do we have a deal?”

Raising one eyebrow, Machi put one finger on her lip and smiled.  “Deal.  I’ll have your hand good as new by tonight.”

* * *

Leorio had mentioned that Gon wasn’t going to like the situation when he woke up and he was absolutely right; Killua didn’t like it either.  He expected Gon’s temporary room to just be like any other hospital room: bed, chairs, monitors and a window to give him something to look out of when his mind wandered.  But, aside from having all of that, there was also a strange machine to Gon’s right making hissing noises on regular intervals.  Chills climbed up and down Killua’s spine with each pulse of the machine.  Leorio had apologized profusely seeing how tense Killua had gotten but he knew that it would be Gon he’d have to apologize to when he awoke.  Just to save his life, they humiliated him by cutting a hole right in his neck and jutting a tube right from it to the hissing contraption. 

“It’s only for a few days.  His neck was so swollen and he was having so much trouble breathing, we really had no other choice.”  Leorio had said.  “It’s only until the swelling goes down.  But also kind of a precaution in case there’s an underlying problem other than his windpipe.  But I’m sure it won’t be long before we have to remove it.  This is Gon, after all!  He fights sitting down as well as standing.”

All three of them stayed in the room as they waited for Gon to wake up from his drug-induced slumber.  And Killua could only shake his head with disappointment as he did.  Just as he thought, Gon awoke with blurred confusion and concern.  He figured out how to talk using the tube very quickly and instantly began asking the same few questions, frantically, over and over again. 

“What’s happening?  What’s that machine?  Am I dying?  Leorio, what did you do to me?”

Leorio used his budding knowledge plus his kindness to gently explain to Gon exactly what he’d told the others while Bisky kept pressing him back into the bed.  The tension in the room escalated as Gon began sobbing and begging Leorio to take the tube out (which only caused Gon’s breaths to be labored even more).  It felt like an hour before Gon finally calmed down enough to stay still on the mattress, tears still streaming down his face.   Bisky gave him a small lecture, her words wrapped in sweet, soothing notes as to not upset him further.  She then joined Leorio in comforting the still crying patient and praising him for his heroic acts in the fight and assuring him that everything would be back to normal soon.

“But . . . but my hand.”

“That, I’m afraid, isn’t going to be the same.  We could get you a fake hand but it would never move like your real one did.”

“Then things won’t be the same.  Why are you lying to me?”

“You’ll just have to learn how to fight without it.” Bisky interjected.  “I’ll train you on that, don’t worry.  It’s not that big of a step backwards.  I’ll have you back to your old self in no time at all!”

Gon had then paused, his ears taking in the same sounds Killua had been for a while now.  The metronome-like beat of the breathing machine, sucking in air and pushing it back out.  The desperation drained from his face and turned into the bitterest look of acceptance Killua had ever seen.  Using the only remaining hand he had, he bunched up the gown covering his body and curled his legs into himself.

“I’ll never be the same, will I?”

“That’s nothing we can’t work around!  Come on, Gon,” Bisky tried her hardest to lift his spirits by putting a comforting arm around him.  “Just rest up for now.  No need to worry about training until next month.  It should give you plenty of time to recover and strengthen up your body again.  I promise I’ll try my hardest, okay, Gon?”

All he did was nod. 

Now, Killua was alone with Gon in the room.  Leorio and Bisky had finally left the two boys alone.  For the first few minutes of solitude, neither of them said a word.  They just listened as the heart monitor’s small beeps drowned in the sound of artificial breathing.  Killua could hear a couple of times as Gon tried to breath on his own, both attempts ending in him sputtering and coughing onto his sleeve.  Killua let Gon break the silence himself.

“Killua . . . I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

He glanced up from looking at the floor, forcing a smile on his face just for Gon’s sake. “Why are you sorry to me?”

“If I’d had listened—“

“Don’t give me that crap, Gon.  You did what you did because both of us thought the Breath of Archangel would be permanent.  I know.  I mean, you’re rash and kind of an idiot but not recklessly.”  He chuckled a bit.  “I’m okay, Gon.  I’m more worried about you.”

Gon whimpered, trying to stubbornly beat the machine but failing yet again.  “I don’t want this, Killua.  T-this has to be a bad dream.  I wanna wake up.  I don’t want this.”

“Gon . . . if this is a bad dream, I wanna wake up too.”


End file.
